A Diesel Circus

Barcelona, 8pm (local time). The time when those in Shanghai and Tokyo would already be at home, shoes off; or those in São Paulo would just be getting ready to start four hours later. In Barcelona it was the starting time for the party that had requested all its invited fans and trendsetters to arrive on the dot.

And the near-impossible was achieved: Just about everybody arrived on time. Except, of course, the generator trucks, causing an hour and a half delay before the gates opened, in a blackout best forgotten.

I tried to put myself in Renzo Rosso's shoes, as if I hadn't jetted off to the closing party, thrown some six hours later in New York. I would've had a nervous breakdown trying stage 17 renditions of an "xXx Rock+Roll Circus", with musicians and acts trying to conjure the decadent fanfare of a Europe past.

Crèpes and hotdogs available to buy, at a party held at supper time. Lots of Tiger beers and a drink per head, though. But before long, the mixers were out and shortly after, the beer was, too.

In even shorter supply were Hefner's bunnies that were promised the in the ad. But, hey, a party is a party, and in Barcelona we aren't too hard to please. After all, tomorrow is another day.

Text and photos by JCA